The Lord Now Offers Dialysis – A Poem for Haftarah Behar-Bechukotai by Rick Lupert

Jeremiah’s in a sour mood again and
our behavior is the issue. My father was
absent so I can’t say this has been
handed down. He’s back now so I’m
not saying I need sympathy either.

Can a man make gods for himself, and they are no gods

What can’t we do with today’s technology?
I could make a statue, a meal, a building,
a God. I have the gift of everything’s possible.
Though what I do in my tent by myself
has little effect on anyone else.

you have kindled fire in My nostrils that shall burn forever.

And for this I apologize. I can only
imagine the discomfort, or at least the
mundanity of the same scent, every day
until the end of Your nostrils. A familial fire
breeds ashes, and there is a history worth
not repeating.

I, the Lord, search the heart, test the kidneys

There is so much more to the science
of creation than Your magic. Oh Holy Doctor
oh First Responder, oh Sacred Dialysis,
oh they never mention the capillaries
at the synagogue; But here You are
confirming them.

The cuckoo calls but has not laid

Would someone please get the cuckoo
another cuckoo of its preferred gender.
Is there an app for this? In what direction
does the cuckoo swipe? Would someone please
answer the cuckoo when it calls?

Heal me, O Lord, then shall I be healed; help me, then I shall be helped

I realize I have to keep my part of the
bargain. Your emissaries keep telling me
I’m not keeping my part of the bargain.
That’s why I’m reading this Book. Every word,
every day, until my eyes no longer work.